“Hosea, is something wrong?”
“Yeah. Someone’s throwing paper airplanes around while I was doing my work.” I stoically pleaded to the teacher as I had a death grip on my pencil while explaining myself.
“Alright. Who did it?”
Silence.
Radio.
Freaking.
Silence.
“Okay, looks like I’ll have to write everyone up besides Breckenridge here…”
“What? Why are you playing favorites with him of all people?” A voice peeked out after that threat was made.
I turned around and found where that voice came from. Some dummy with a letterman’s jacket.
How typical.
C. M. B. Bell's Writing Universe 